Tarnished Silver Faded Gold: Sight Unseen
by Hellen Highwater
Summary: A sequel to TS;FG: Exchange. Minerva is going blind, and Severus doesn't know what to do. Minerva/Severus friendship. AU.


This is a sequel, of sorts, to Exchange. I suggest you read that first.

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

S I G H T * U N S E E N

_Part One_

_Each sat and contemplated their mistakes._

Very few people ever noticed, but Severus Snape ate very quickly.

It never seemed like he did, because he did so very neatly and without appearing at all hurried, and his innate grace would never permit him to be so undignified as to rush, but in the same amount of time a normal person would be halfway through their meal, Severus would have finished his and left the table.

Minerva blamed this on a number of things. The first was that Severus was a very busy man. Aside from teaching, he was an unparalleled potions master, and his skills were very much in demand. He was regularly called upon to write articles for Research Weekly, and routinely invented new potions. As such, he took as little time as possible with the necessities of living (which explained his greasy hair and slender structure) so as to have more time to work. Another reason was that Severus was hardly a socialite. He disliked spending time in the company of others, but the headmaster required that meals be eaten together. Snape preferred to get the chore over with, and go back to his pleasant solitude. The final reason-and the one Minerva was most sure he would never admit to-was his childhood. Though she hadn't realized it when he had been a student (much to her regret), the potions master's home life had been far from ideal. An abusive, alcoholic father and a passive mother were hardly conductive to a steady diet, and, from the few comments Severus had absently dropped over the years, there had been times where he had gone for days without food while his father drank their money away.

But the reasons for it notwithstanding, Severus Snape always finished his meal long before his colleagues.

Knowing this, Minerva ate twice as fast as usual so that when the dark man stood to leave the table, she rose with him. Arching a brow curiously, he nevertheless accompanied her as far as the Great Hall doors without saying anything. But once they were beyond that barrier, and free of the student's ears, he asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Minerva?"

Exiting a meal together was not one of their traditions; in fact, it had never happened before. She must have something important to say.

"I'd like a word with you, Severus, if you don't mind."

He searched her face with black eyes, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Finally he asked, "Your quarters or mine?"

"Mine."

He nodded, and the two set off for her chambers, equally long strides eating up familiar hallways, tracing a route both had traveled many times before, and would doubtless do many times more.

They settled into their chairs-he into his dark burgundy leather seat, and she in her tall crimson one-forgoing the hot beverages that usually accompanied their discussions. For a long moment, both were content to sit in silence. Unwillingly, Minerva finally spoke.

"I'm sure you've noticed that I've been …clumsier than usual lately." She waited for his nod before continuing. "I wasn't sure at first, but Poppy and I did some testing. I have a disease. It's all very complicated, and I don't fully understand it, but ultimately…I'm going to loose my vision."

He sucked in a breath shallowly, and then whispered, hoarsely, "Magic can't fix it?"

"No. The disease is magical in nature, and very resilient to spells. Poppy will be able to slow it, but not stop it."

His dark eyes were intent on her face, and he hunched forwards in his chair, clasping his long, thin hands to keep from wringing them. "Potions?"

"No. And I don't want you staying up late and loosing sleep and pushing yourself too hard looking for one, either, Severus. One of us in bad health is enough."

He studied her, meeting her eyes and finding his answer in them. "I won't push myself too far, but I am going to look for a cure. I owe you at least that much."

"You don't owe me anything, Severus. If anything, I'm in your debt."

He straightened. "I wouldn't even be alive still if it weren't for you. You helped me keep my sanity during the war, healed my wounds when I wouldn't even admit I was injured, and, after it was over, stood up for me."

"But I failed you when you needed it most. I didn't see the marks your father left on you when you were a child, and I didn't support you when my students were bullying you. I could have prevented you from becoming a Death Eater and enduring all that, if I had been doing my job." She had brought up his past and the guilt she felt about her part in it before, and both times it had immediately caused her dark colleague to close down. This time, aside from a slight tightening around the mouth and a miniscule shake of the head, he failed to respond at all.

Each sat and contemplated their mistakes.

Severus stood abruptly. "I'll do everything in my power to fight your disease. You won't be blind. Minerva, not if I can stop it."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Severus."

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

S I G H T * U N S E E N

_Part Two_

_The months went on. The seasons changed..._

It was common knowledge that Severus Snape was a Slytherin.

Obvious, really.

And as such, compounded with decades of spying, he really didn't feel _that_ guilty about lying to Minerva. A little. More than he'd like to admit, but not enough to stop him.

So he stayed up later than was healthy, and worked harder than he ought, because he'd finally admitted that Minerva was his _friend._ And he would _not_ allow her to go blind.

If he were the sort of man who paid attention to such things, he would have noticed that he'd lost ten pounds in one week, and that his cheeks were more sunken than usual. But he was not the sort of man who paid attention to appearances, and so (when he noticed that his robes didn't fit properly) he applied a complex glamour to keep anyone (Pomfrey, Minerva) from bothering him about it.

Still, for all his efforts, for all his late nights, for all his experiments, he found nothing. Neither magic, which had served him so well, nor potions, which had been his dearest companion through his darkest years, could help.

And Minerva's sight deteriorated.

She offered no overt sign, but her movements were slower than usual, more hesitant, and to someone whose life had long depended on his observational skills, it was hardly something he could miss. And her eyes, always a bitingly crisp brown, were hazed and no longer gleamed with her razor-sharp intellect.

Despite this, they still went about their routine as usual. They still sat in her living room and debated magical research. And if he read all the articles aloud before they began, it was simply because it made things easier, not out of pity.

The months went on. The seasons changed, students graduated, new ones came. And Minerva McGonnagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, went blind.

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

S I G H T * U N S E E N

_Part Three_

…_he shifted his gaze to the book in his lap, and opened it to the first page._

More than anything else, she missed her books. She missed being able to find whatever information she needed in her sizable library. She missed spending long, comfortable evenings curled up with a book by the fireside, missed the contentment that came after finishing a particularly satisfying work of fiction, or the dawning light of new knowledge gained from a dusty tome.

And Severus knew this.

He knocked on her door on Tuesday (they had no traditions for Tuesdays) evening, Morpheus perched on his right shoulder. Outwardly, he was the image of calm, but inwardly he was nervous at best. In his sweaty palms he clutched a copy of Tarrant Truwith's _Seven Strains of Magic: a commentary on sources of magic, _published in 1245_. _It was a first edition; he'd taken it from the protectively bespelled shelves of his personal library for the first time in a decade. He knew Minerva had been looking for a copy before her illness, and he had offered to loan it to her, but then her sight had begun to go, and she'd never taken him up on his offer.

She opened the door looking the same as always. Her hair remained in its severe bun, her dress as immaculately assembled as ever. Erebus, the snake he had given her for her birthday several years ago, was in his habitual coil around her neck. But her little reading glasses were gone and her once-sharp eyes refused to focus. Still, she somehow managed to immediately identify him.

"Severus. What brings you here?"

He dodged the question smoothly. "Are you busy, Minerva?"

At the sound of his voice, her head tilted towards him, zeroing in on his location. "No, just doing a little grading. It can wait. Do come in." She stepped away from the door.

He followed her into her rooms. She'd always been neat, but since her blindness she was absolutely meticulous with putting things into their proper places. He understood: if she misplaced something, she might not be able to find it again. He was careful to never move or disturb objects when he visited, and kept his own rooms in a more consistent fashion so that when she came down to his rooms, it wasn't necessary to lead her around. She hated requiring assistance.

She took her usual chair, and he arranged himself in his. She tilted her head as though to ask him why he was there, but he refused to meet her vacant eyes. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the book in his lap, and opened it to the first page.

"'_Seven Strains of Magic: a commentary on sources of magic._ Tarrant Truwith. Chapter One: Spell Magics. A common misconception made by wizards is that their type of magic is unique to humans. This theory is incorrect…'"

A smile bloomed across Minerva's face, and she settled back into her chair. Severus snuck a glance at this rare expression through his lowered lashes, and continued reading.

Their new tradition was continued every Tuesday.

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

S I G H T * U N S E E N

_Part Four_

…_she did not protest, simply waiting for him to finish._

She became used to blindness. Naturally, she didn't prefer it to being sighted, but she learned to function at more-or-less normal.

Severus was Not Alright with this. She should not become used to being blind. He was going to make sure she didn't stay that way. He voiced this thought to her only once, and she responded that while she would like to see again, she was resigned to blindness, and he shouldn't waste his energy looking for a cure that wasn't there.

He found it.

In the last place he thought to look, he found a cure.

While her disease was entirely magical in nature, its effects were not so unusual. Blindness was hardly a new concept. But while the disease was resilient to magic, it couldn't fight Severus' cure: Muggle science.

He'd found a doctor, a surgeon specializing in optical problems, who was certain he'd be able to fix the woman's blindness with a simple surgery, the recovery time for which would be less than a month.

He hadn't told Minerva yet.

On Tuesday, instead of bringing their latest book (_The Birth of Transfiguration _by Rowan Corbie, 1476) for an evening of reading, he carried an article from a Muggle science magazine. He began reading it without any introduction, ignoring the tea on the table beside his usual chair. Minerva's brow wrinkled in confusion as he read, not understanding why he had started reading an essay on Muggle optical surgery when they weren't even done with _The Birth of Transfiguration, _but she did not protest, simply waiting for him to finish.

He read the last sentence, then precisely folded the paper, placing it into one of the multitude of pockets in his robe. He smoothed the creases from his lap, wondering how best to phrase it.

"It works, Minerva." He began abruptly. "The surgery. The disease has run its course, you'd be able to-"

"See." She interrupted, blank eyes wide. "Oh, Severus, you did it. You-I-"

He broke in, flustered by her gratitude. "We can schedule it as soon as you'd like. It's a fairly simple procedure, according to the doctor."

"I knew it." She reached across the space between their two chairs and fumbled for his hand. He allowed her to hold it, and then, uncertainly, clasped his other hand over hers, enveloping her smaller palm in his long, slender fingers. It was the first time he'd ever responded to physical contact in the entire time she'd known him.

"I knew that if anyone could cure me, it'd be you, Severus. Thank you."

He ducked his head, and even through her blindness, Minerva could see the embarrassed blush on his cheeks. He was saved from having to respond by Morpheus' leap onto the side table, where she perched and purred contentedly. Erebus slithered down Minerva's arm and wrapped himself around their joined hands, tightening firmly, as though to solidify their friendship with his presence.

When they met again six weeks later, it was Minerva who picked up Severus' copy of _The Birth of Transfiguration_ and read aloud, he sparkling brown eyes darting eagerly over the page. Severus, on the other hand, was quite content to sit back and pet Morpheus, reveling in a moment of peace with his dearest friend.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This is actually the second part in the **_**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold **_**series. I just love Minerva and Severus!**

**Morpheus, Severus's kitten, is named for the god of sleep and dreams, due to her seeming ability to allow him to sleep without dreaming. She is half kneazle, and was Severus's Christmas gift from Minerva.**

**Erebus, Minerva's snake, is named for the god of darkness and shadows, in honor of Severus. He is approximately five feet long by now, and was given to Minerva from Severus as a birthday gift. For more information, read **_**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold: Exchange.**_

_**Please Review!**_


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